PS 

55\3 



PAGAN POEMS 



FRANKIJN HENRY GIDDINGS 




Boolc__i25LSl 

COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT, 



PAGAN POEMS 



THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 

NEW YORK • BOSTON • CHICAGO • DALLAS 
ATLANTA • SAN FRANCISCO 

MACMILLAN & CO., Limited 

LONDON • BOMBAY • CALCUTTA 
MELBOURNE 

THE MACMILLAN CO. OF CANADA, Ltd. 

TORONTO 



PAGAN POEMS 



BY 



FRANKLIN HENRY GIDDINGS 



THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 
1914 

All rights reserved 



Copyright, 1914, 

By The Macmillan Company. 

Set up and electrotyped. 
Published September, 1914. 



Norfajooti i^tess : 

J. S. Cashing Co. — Berwick & Smith Co. 

Norwood, Mass., U.S.A. 



OCT I 1914 

)CUo79791 



:^' 



Why should one loho has grven his Best years to 
science and discussion, and 'who hopes to gi've to them 
the years that remain^ turn aside to make a book of 
'verse ? What excuse can he offer , unashamed? Mine 
is good enough for me. / ha've made the book because 
it bade me make it I 

The title is chosen not 'with irreligious intent — quite 
the contrary* It is chosen to emphasize that inextin- 
guishable ** faith in the possibilities of life** which has 
come do'wn to us through all the religions of the 'world, 
from the earliest fears and hopes of the human heart, the 
earliest questionings of the human mind* 

June, J9J4. 



Digitized by the Internet Archive 
in 2011 with funding from 
The Library of Congress 



http://www.archive.org/details/paganpoemsOOgidd 



CONTENTS 




Song: 


PAGE 


Song ..... 


3 


Creation / 




A Mystery Tale .... 


7 


Man: 




TheScathless .... 


. 19 


Womcin : 




Truth 


. 27 


A Valentine .... 


. 29 


The Half Grown Wheat 


. 30 


For Life and Death 


. 3i 



[ vii 



Child: 

Christmas Eve . 

To Margaret 

April Fool 

Comment-vous Portez Vous ? 

Power : 

Where Power Dwells . 

Fdte t 

The Shadow Land 

Near and Far 

The Glory on the Hills 

Tristam 

Joy o' the Morning 

Drear o' the Night 

To What End? . 

Sea ! O Sea ! 



41 
44 
45 
46 

51 

65 
67 
69 
71 
73 
75 
77 
78 



[viii] 



SONG 



w 



SONG 

ILD as the wildest thing born in 
the wildwood : 

In white of the dawn 
She calls, and I hasten ; 
But her feet 
They are fleet 
As the fawn. 
I hasten : I call : 
She is gone ! 

I listen : a note from the song-sparrow's 
throat ? 

Or no ? Am I wrong ? 
Is it she that I hear ? 

[3] 



Or beat 
Of the feet 
Of the fawn ? 
Do I know who she is ? 
She is Song ! 



4] 



CREATION 



G 



A MYSTERY TALE 

OD brooded alone in silent space, 
Alone in silent night, 
In the blackness of infinite vacancy 
He was trying to think, of Light ! 



He thought it through: a particle 
Shot from an atom's rim, 

The limitless realms of ether shook, - 
Which presently heartened Him. 

An atom burst : a silver gleam 

Grew white in the distant dark, 

[7] 



A wraith of worlds began to drift, 
In a swirling, shaping arc. 

Said God : '* It is good ! I like the light, 
** I like the shaping arc." 

One world grew cool, and damp and sweet, 
With breath of winds that passed 

In the misty blue of a firmament, 
Hung over a heaving vast, 

And one by one the continents 
Rose slowly from the deep. 

Stretched themselves, to dry in the sun, 
Lifted, for winds to sweep. 

Said God : ** I like the continents, 

** The sea, and winds that sweep." 



God brooded alone in a universe, 

Alone on land and sea. 
** But what is creation for," He said, 

** With no one to talk to Afe ? " 

He thought it through : a trembling cell 

Divided itself in twain, 
Which clung together, none the less. 

To divide, and cling, again. 

In the sea was life, and on the earth 
Came lichen, moss and vine. 

And greening grass, and brake and fern. 
And palm, and scented pine. 

Said God : ** I like the greening grass, 
** The palm, and scented pine." 

[9] 



He planted a garden and watered it, 
And made it lush and wild, 

Which creeping things, and nesting birds, 
And quadrupeds beguiled ; 

Whose jungle life was sweet to them ; 

Consorting kind by kind. 
They roamed and fought, and sniffed and 
fed. 

And mated, kind with kind. 

Said God: ** I like the quadrupeds, 
*' And every roving kind." 

Shaping a broken flint there sat, 

A sinister, thinking brute. 
And warily watching him his mate. 

Was pounding a moistened root. 

[lo] 



The chirping things, the winging birds, 
And every roaming beast. 

That wandered by from out the south, 
Or west, or north, or east. 

Gazed wondering at him working there. 
And frightened as they came, 

For, as he worked, he called to them, 
And spoke to each a name. 

Said God: ** I like the thinking brute, 
** And he shall speak My name." 

The woman gave him sap to drink. 
From the root of a reborn tree, 

A rude wild joy awoke in him. 
He followed her wantonly : 

[ii] 



She led him through a darkening glade, 

All dread with mystery, 
He talked with her; they plucked the 
leaves 

Of Life, from the reborn tree. 

Then God was wroth : He swore an oath, 
*' They shall fear and worship Me!'' 

A burning drought lay on the land. 
The drinking holes were dry. 

No cloud as big as human hand 
Came in the blazing sky. 

The first-born of a weary clan 

Stood shuddering by a grave. 

With lifted hands he called on God, 
The dying herd to save. 

[12] 



He built a pile and wetted it 

With blood of kids and lambs, 

And on it burnt a sacrifice 

Of meat of bulls and rams. 

God smelled the burning sacrifice, 
The meat of bulls and rams. 

The younger brother had nor herd 

Nor altar anywhere. 
He offered God but fruits of toil, 

And words of whispered prayer. 

So rose the elder, stronger one, 

Who knew what way to pray, 

And murdered the younger, gentler one. 
Who worshipped another way. 

[13] 



** Behold us God ! I slew," he said, 
** He worshipped another way ! " 

God rode on a tempest black that day, 
He rode in flame that night : 

A fearsome curse on creation lay. 

Until He could think, of Right ! 

He thought it through : by a mighty rock. 

Stood one of eager face, 
And one was patiently teaching him 

A runic line to trace. 

** With this," he said, '* you shall tell your 
mind, 
" Mind to another mind, 
** That shall pass this way when you are 
dead, 
** And this, that is written, find. 

[14] 



** Through space and time the rune shall 
speak, 
** Mind to another mind." 

Then he cut a reed by the river marge, 

And soothly fashioned it, 
And on it blew a glad, sweet note ; 

The wild repeated it. 

"With this," he said, **you shall tell 
your heart, 

*' While ever the world shall stand, 
** And wild and child, and man and God, 

*' Shall hear, and understand." 

God said: ** It is well, they have found 
the way, 
*' They know, and understand." 

[15] 



MAN 



THE SCATHLESS 

THE starswere asleep, and no moon was, 
That far night, after the Ice Age. 
The reindeer had gone to the north- 
ward, 
The hunters, that followed, were camping. 

Beside him, the son of his sister 
Had put to the Old One a question. 
When something had passed in the darkness. 
Where the Old One, the Uncle, was watch- 
ing. 

** As I felt in the fight with the cave bear 
'* I felt, when you did not quiver : 

[19] 



** I felt your look upon me ; 
'* I feared, lest I should fear ! 

** What is it that makes men shudder? 
** Tell me, what makes them dare ? 
*' Why are you steady. Old One ? 
*' Men call you wise, but where — " 

Then the Old One, the Uncle, answered : 

*' We talk of things forbidden. 

** You have spoken this night of It, 

** I like you, because you have spoken! 

** Luck brought you to birth, men tell, 

** And lucky you are, they will say, 

** Because you called It no name ! 

*' They say, in their fear, for they know not, 

** That no mortal shall name It and live. 

** But little they know, and they die. 

[20] 



** Before the bear fled, or the ice was, 

** Men shuddered at It : 

** It, the Hair Raiser, 

** The Goose Flesh Maker. 

**Thou canst not hide thee from It, nor 

escape. 
** In the night it is near thee, 
'' When creeping things are abroad and the 

owl calls, 
" And the bat wing scares thee. 
** It moans in the trees : — did you hear it ? 
* ' The raven was passing ! 

*' It is where Death is : It is where Life is. 
** It renews : It destroys. 
*' It touches the leaves, and they fall, 
*' It stirs in the sap and the buds swell, 
*' It brightens the ring on the dove's neck. 

[21] 



**It blesses and curses: It thunders and 

whispers. 
** It blinds thee with lightning, 
** It lulls thee to sleep and awakes thee. 
** It fills thee with fear, and thou failest, 
** It strengthens thy bowels with courage. 
*' Evermore thou shalt shun It and dread It, 
** But evermore thou shalt desire It ! 

'' What has or obtains It imparts it : 
"" Whoever receives It, gives. 

** This is the secret thou seekest : 
** The wisdom of It : Wilt thou hear? 
** Keep near to all that lives, 
** Close to the men that dare, 
** Hearken to men that know : 
**Thou shalt Live, thou shalt Dare, thou 
shalt Know. 

[22] 



** Listen to all that sings; with singing 
** Thy heart shall leap, like the water. 
** Stand alone, in the stillness of night ; 
** Thy mind shall not falter, nor fear. 

** This is the secret thou seekest, 

*' But only the dauntless hear. 

'* Art thou of the Scathless the first ? 

** Thou shalt not be the last. 

" Attend : I will give thee a token. 

** Take this stick, in thy hand. 

** A mighty man made it, and held it ; 

'* His virtue is in it. 

*' It leaps to thy arm, it strengthens thy 

heart ! 
** Behold thee, no longer a Boy ! 
^'Behold thee, a Man! 
** I have spoken! 



[23 



The Old One died, 

While the stars were asleep, and no moon 

was. 
But It did not die, nor the token. 
The swords of Siegfried and of Arthur 
Have failed not, are not broken. 
The Shining Ones, the Enlighteners, 
Forever are born again. 
Forever they stand together. 
To Live, to Dare, to Know. 
Their song is the Voice of Waters, 
They falter not, nor fear. 



[24] 



WOMAN 



TRUTH 

IF Truth be beautiful then surely truth 
Is lovelier still that it in thee doth 
dwell, 
And lovelier is it even for the ruth 

The tell-tale shadows in thy soft eyes 
tell. 
Truth is not hard, though it be hardly won. 
And truly I would win it won I thee, 
But he that wooed were surely soon undone 
Who thought by rude compulsion 
truth to see. 
To love the truth is ever man's true might. 
But could I love it, if you told me true, 

[27] 



While yet I gazed into your eyes' sweet 
light, 
That I no more might love the truth 
in you? 
I would that Truth were always half as 
fair 
As play of sunlight on your golden 
hair ! 



28 



A VALENTINE 

IF I could have thee all that maketh 
woman fair, 
The laughing eye, the golden hair. 
The snow-white breast, softer than any dove. 
The lips that press, the arms that cling in 
love, 

loving heart ! 

1 could not have thee other than thou art ! 

If I could have thee all that maketh woman 

kind. 
And sweet and true, with steadfast mind 
Made beautiful beyond compare 
Through its own love of beauty everywhere, 

gentle heart ! 

1 could not have thee other than thou art ! 

[29] 



THE HALF-GROWN WHEAT 

ACROSS the field of half-grown wheat 
That lies along the hillside there, 
Where you and I, one summer fair, 
Went wandering, hand in hand, 
my Sweet, 

Go wandering shadows now that lift 
And now that fall across the light, 

Beneath the wayward shapes of white 
Soft clouds that idly overdrift. 

I wonder if the shadows. Sweet, 

That mingle in the spirit's vision 

Fall from the clouds, that sail the heaven. 
As on the field of half-grown wheat ! 

[30] 



FOR LIFE AND DEATH 

WHOSE then shall she be ? " they 
asked, 
As they walked with the Mas- 
ter there 
In the way that led from the Temple 
To Bethany's Garden fair. 

** Whose then shall she be, in sooth, 

*' If the dead shall ascend into Heaven ? 

** We do not remember her name, 

** For they that had her were seven." 

So : they had had her the seven, 
A vessel of wheat and tares, 

[31] 



An ox, an ass that was driven, 
Or anything, that was theirs. 

They had had her to own and to fondle, 
To curse, and caress, and abuse. 

They had had her to wife, and to fondle, 
To raise up seed, and to use. 

Yet perchance of the seven was one 
Whose soul was a soul apart. 

Who clung to the woman, and loved her, 
And sang her a song in his heart ! 



The Temple bells rang low. 

Sweet calling from tower to shrine, 
And pale in the evening glow 

Lay hills of olive and vine. 



32 



In sorrow, and wonder, and shame, 
The Master raised his head. 

And breathing his Father's name. 
He answered them, and said : 

** O scribe and Sadducee ! 

'* Whose hearts are flint, in Heaven 
" They marry not nor give, 

** Nor in marriage are given ; 

** But are as angels are, 

'* That dwell in worlds of light, 
** And love as they and only they 

'* That love in God's own sight." 



The hills of olive and vine 

Lie fair in the eastern sun, 

D [33 ] 



But the Master is gone from there, 
And all his work is done. 

And the earth is given again 
To scribe and Sadducee, 

Who say there is no Heaven 
Where w^eary souls may bee 

Who tell us to eat and drink, 

And take us a woman to wife. 

Or a wanton, and with her be merry. 
For that is the whole of life. 



Ye fools and blind, that see not 
Nor hearken to any cry ! 

Are the desolate ones but naught 
To ye that pass them by ? 

[34] 



For ever and ever there cometh 

To the sons and daughters of men, 

A merciless w^oe, that taketh them, 
And breaketh them again. 

And leaveth naught of the mighty 
Or of them of low degree, 

But a naked soul, and sin, and love, 
If love there be. 



Wherefore the question remaineth. 
What if there be no Heaven 

And only a desolate earth 

For the woman of one or seven ; 

Whose then for the death that ends not, 
Whose then for the life that ends, 

[35] 



Is she who bears in sorrow 

Whatever the Life Might sends ? 

This creature that men have wounded, 
This being that men have owned, 

This woman, whose travail they've sold 
for gold. 
But whose love they have not sold ! 

Whose then is this, the human. 

Whose soul is soul apart. 
Who knoweth her own, and loveth her own. 

As love the pure in heart ? 

In the day of tribulation, 

When rocks and mountains flee. 
Shall any stand forth to claim his own ? 

And say, *' She belongs to me ! " 



36 



Perchance of the seven was one 
Whose soul was a soul apart, 

Who clung to the woman and loved her, 
And sang her a song in his heart : 

** Sweet unto me were thou, Beloved ! 

'* In the days when I called thee my own. 
** And hot ran the blood in my veins 

** In the nights, when I held thee, alone. 

** But sweeter than breasts of a virgin, 
** Or lips of a bride, in the night, 
" Was a song in my heart, that I sang unto 
thee, 
" My Love, My Beloved, My Light ! 

** I sang it by day in my gladness, 

*' I sang it by night in my dreams, 

[37] 



** And its music shall echo forever, 

** In the gladness of day, and of dreams ! 

** Then come to me, O my Beloved ! 

*' My sister, and helper, and friend, 
*' Let us sing as vs^e labour, and sing as we 
dream, 

** And labour and sing to the end ! " 



Doth any then claim the woman ? 

And want her, as he saith ? 
His own and alone she shall be in life. 

His own and alone, in death. 



[38] 



CHILD 



CHRISTMAS EVE 

HOW many hearts beat warm and 
high to-night ! 
While busy hands prepare sweet 
mysteries ! 
From yon red log there flames such glorious 
light 
No other night than this. 
The gladsome bells ring out across the 
drifting snow, 
And joyous echo, in their frosty flight, 
A wonder music from long years ago. 
For Christmas Eve to-night. 

Among the holly boughs in ingle nook, 
What dreadful Druids hide in weird 
disguise ! 

[41] 



Twice happy children wonder as they look, 
Or marvel of the morning's mad sur- 
prise : 
Then go to dream of all the heart loves 
best, 
Of all the joy that kindles this glad 
light. 
For dreams of what we love shall find our 
rest. 
Through all the hours to-night. 



And have we gifts and maskers all in one ? 
And Christmas joy as deep as life can 
know ? 
Give they themselves, as hearts none else 
had won. 
Into our keeping true ? 

[42] 



Oh! may we make them merry welcome 
still ! 
And glad their years with love's frui- 
tion bright ! 
Sweet, as they here our sweetest hope 
fulfil, 
Our happy babes, to-night ! 



[43] 



TO MARGARET 



D 



ON'T be afraid, my little maid, 
Of a saint, or a devil or two ; 
But don't be afraid to be afraid, 
If the devil is bigger than you. 



44] 



APRIL FOOL 

ONE little fool, on April first, 
Came down in her nightgown say- 
ing, *' Sunday! " 
Two little fools into laughter burst. 

And said, ** My Dear, this day is 
Monday ! " 

But the truth of the thing, you know who 

are wise. 
This day was an April Fool surprise ! 



[45] 



COMMENT VOUS PORTEZ-VOUS 

COMMENT VOUS portez-vous, Little 
Man? 
Beating your drum in quick tattoo, 
Holding your head as soldiers do ! 
Comment vous portez-vous, Little Man ? 

Comment vous portez-vous. Little Man ? 

Shoulder arms, and fall in line ! 

Mind the orders prompt and true : 
Comment vous portez-vous. Little Man ? 

Comment vous portez-vous. Little Man ? 

Guide right ! and keep in touch ! 

We are the fellows to beat the Dutch ! 
Comment vous portez-vous. Little Man ? 

[46] 



Comment vous portez-vous, Little Man ? 

Eyes front ! and forward, march ! 

Fear nor bogey man nor foe : 
Comment vous portez-vous, Little Man ? 



[47 



POWER 



WHERE POWER DWELLS 

SPARE now, and let them toil. You 
weary now 
Of wringing shrieks from tortured 
men ; weary 
Of woman's anguish and of death. Your 

gods 
With blood are sated, all. Incredulous ? 
Amazed ! No doubt. An idea staggers 

you, 
A thought is pain to you, it splits your 

heads. 
It racks you more than marching does, or 

work. 
And impious ? Your fathers did not so ! 

[51] 



True : you will flay the first who breaks 

their law ; 
Then, afterwards, the captives you will 

save! 

The upland ground is cold, and hard to 

break, 
The grazing cattle on the slopes are lean. 
The pestilential marshes lie untilled 
Where shining rivers sweep to greet the sea. 
Go put your captives there, to dyke and 

drain. 
Big sinewy rascals taken in your wars, 
To dig canals and hold the spreading floods 
With gate and sluice, until the ground be 

dry 
To sow with grain, or watered at your will 
When the unruly skies withhold their rain. 

[ 52 ] 



They bend their backs obedient to your 

lash, 
They breed in huts more slaves for you to 

own, 
They dig you copper from the hills, and 

gold 
And gems that gleam. They heap you 

surplus, wealth ! 
They build you cities, glorious in the sun. 
Majestic temples rear, where robed priests 
Chant solemn anthems to your Lord of 

Hosts. 
Your Lord of Hosts ! Uncounted granaries 
Are overflowing now with sifted wheat. 
With golden wheat ! To feed your march- 
ing hosts. 

Marching hosts and heaUng drums ! 
Glorious shrines and palaces, 

[53] 



Chanting priests and toiling slaves, 
These are Thine, O Lord of Hosts ! 

Hear them and set them free ! The world 

is wide ! 
On every sea the helms of merchantmen 
Hold fair each course the great discoverers 

laid. 
You could not bind the serf to villainage, 
Or week-work task upon the lord's demesne 
When busy marts protested, hiding him. 
Too late it is to tie the labourers 
To parishes, and customs old. The mines 
Of El Dorado call. The fishing banks 
And square-rigged ships of all the world 

are theirs ! 

Cathedral bells and lifting silences. 
Lights beautiful as day's last rose, as 

night's 

[54] 



First shadowings, not more than feudal lord 
Their straining limbs, can you their minds 

enthrall 
Who now may rove the world. Perhaps 

again 
When weary of the clash of creeds, of faiths 
As white as truth, they shall look back, 

Great Church, 
To you, desiring much that you could give; 
But never shall they yield assent of mind, 
With reverence, until yourself are free. 

The world is theirs, the oceans and the land. 

Fair chance for all, and free ! If kings yet 
reign 

It is indwelling nature makes them kings. 

The crown and throne that frown and glit- 
ter yet 

[55] 



Are properties of stages, for the play. 

Of stages for the play ! The world is wide ! 

The world is theirs ! What action now 

shall be? 
To what great destinies lead on? What 

chords 
Of music shall run ravishing, in fugues, 
Like waking beatings of the morning sea ? 

Dreadless hearts and drifting sails, 

Argonauts and argosies, 
Pilots all! and helmsmen true! 

Wide the world! The world is theirs! 

Fear them and yield your gains ! You have 

subdued 
The earth, and ravaged it. The forests old 
That clothed the hills in majesty, for gold 
You have in waste destroyed and have not 

cared 

[56] 



How fire and flood might desolate the slopes. 

Who shall restore fertility to lands 

That you have robbed ? Who shall bring 

back to life 
The wilding things, the herds that you have 

slain ? 
The songs of birds ? Who shall awake again 
The joy that Nature knew before you came ? 

The might that sunlight stored, dark in the 

earth. 
Millions of years ago, is roaring red, 
Pounding in engines and machinery ; 
Rolling you armour plate and guns, and rails 
For roads of steel ; hammering you great 

beams 
For office towers, and treasure vaults ; flaming 
In furnaces, where swarthy stokers faint ; 

[57] 



Drilling in mines where men are crushed 

and burned ; 
Driving the looms and spindles of the mills 
Where little children lose their souls, and die. 

And now ! You read a writing on the wall ! 

Belschazzar read it once, in Babylon. 

But never onrush of the Persian host 

Was ominous as sullen mutterings 

Of hireling men who know no law but hate. 

Who know no law but hate ! What dark- 
ness black 

Shall gather when Hate wills, and over- 
spread ! 

What wreck of fairest work of man shall be, 

And desolation, when the tempest breaks ! 

Of all that counts, what shall Hate spare ? 
Who knows ? 

[58] 



Belching smoke and deafening din ! 

Tenements and Treasuries ! 
IVasting workers, mouthing mobs ! 

Industry ! Your Dividends ! 

But hearken yet ! You need not fear their 
rule. 

They may destroy, they have not sense to 
build. 

Like you they care for nothing but them- 
selves. 

They differ from you little but in this : 

They never yet have known, they know not 
now. 

That souls were born in them, are breath- 
ing still. 

You faced your souls, and heard them plead 
to you ; 

[59] 



And then you sold them, in the market- 
place ! 

For power you sold them ; and your bitter- 
ness 

Is this, that what you bought was power- 
lessness ! 

You do not seem to know where power 

dwells. 
It dwells in such as you have hurt and slain, 
And have not seen what happened, when 

they died. 
When Socrates drank hemlock did thought 

die? 
When Dante was proscribed did beauty die ? 
When Galileo's books were banned and 

burned, 
And Darwin suffered scorn, did knowledge 

die? 

[6ol 



And ignorant as you, are these who waste 
With torch and sabotage, but cannot build. 
Like you, they do not know where power 
dwells. 

To you, to them, shall wisdom come at 

last? 
When hate and waste have done their 

worst ? Who knows ? 
The Seeking Mind is spendthrift of its 

gains : 
It will bestow them on you if it may. 
Mercy, of deathless heart, forgives all 

wrongs. 
And Beauty neither you, nor hate, nor time 
Can kill. Immortal as the light, it could 
Make fair again the earth that you have 

scarred, 

[6i] 



Awake the souls of them that you have 

damned, 
And, if you cared, return your souls to you ! 

Seeking minds and deathless hearts 

Faring on in comradeship, 
Dauntless souls of gentleness. 

Ye the only Power are. 



[62] 



FATE 



F 



THE SHADOW LAND 

LEEING the shadow land 

Where the clouds roam, 
Seeks the red sun his bright 

Far western home. 
Briefly the changing sky 

Burns with his ray, 
Then the bright eventide 

Fades, into gray. 

Ever the shadow land 
Chasing the light. 

Calls us and beckons us 
On, to the night. 

[65] 



Quaff we the golden hours ! 

Life's but a day ! 
Ere the bright eventide 

Fades, into gray. 



[66] 



NEAR AND FAR 

WE pulled for the bar, the night was 
clear, 
The soft waves lapped our brown 
boat's knees ; 
The stars looked down from the 
heavens — anear ! 
And the whippoorwill called, from the 
trees. 

We lay at the bar for the moon to 
rise, 
Felt the wooing breath of the summer 
breeze ; 

[67] 



The eyes I read were a comrade's 
eyes, 
And the whippoorwill called, from the 
trees. 

The night is clear, I pull for the bar, 
The soft waves lap my brown boat's 
knees ; 
The stars look down from the heavens 
— afar ! 
And the whippoorwill calls, from the trees. 



[68] 



THE GLORY ON THE HILLS 

A SUNSET glory lingers on the hills. 
The valleys lie in shadow, deep as 
when 
Dull, weary clouds drift slowly o'er the sun. 
The air is clear and still, save now and then 
A murmur in the pines, that skirt the way. 

I think with pain that those great earnest 

souls 
All burning with the love of truth and right, 
Who shed new light upon their fellowmen 
To guide them through the mazes of this 

world, 

[69] 



Who climb the blue of Heaven and cross 

its span — 
Must too, at last, sink sadly from our sight, 
As does the sun at eve. 

And yet if through life's day they've shed 

the light 
Of love and truth and kindness to all men, 
And if the atmosphere through w^hich they 

shone 
Grew^ thereby sv^eet, and so is calm and fair. 
However sad the hearts that know their loss, 
However deep the shadows in the vales, 
A sunset glory lingers on the hills. 



[70] 



TRISTAM 

THERE was no other like thee, Boy ! 
Nor shall be one again ; 
God makes no two as he made you, 
Among the sons of men. 

Thy limbs were of the breeds that spare 

No stroke of battle blow. 
Thy heart of those that take no blade 

From hand of broken foe. 

Thy strength was of the arm of Thor, 
And sure thou wast, and fleet ; 

Thy gentleness the touch of light. 
And all thy ways were sweet. 

[71] 



And men had hope of thee, that thou 
Shouldst lead victorious fight, 

That thy clear brain should shape the law 
To elemental right. 

There was no ill for thee to fear, 

Nor fate for thee to dread. 
For only Jove could lay thee low. 

Stark, among the dead. 

There was no other like thee, Boy, 

Nor shall be one again ; 
God makes no two as he made you, 

Among the sons of men. 



[72] 



JOY O' THE MORNING 

JOY o' the autumn morning fair ! 
Joy and tingle ! 
Hills their gala garments wear, 
In tones that mingle ! 
Golden leaves are rustling, falling. 
Everywhere. 

All the eastern sky is bright, 
More gold than red too ! 

Softly fade the stars of night. 
Those overhead do ! 

Now on all the frosty meadows 
Breaks the light ! 

[73] 



See ! the earth with jewels strown ! 

No need to steal one ! 
From the hand of Fairy thrown, 

A truly real one ! 
Who by night was gently walking, 

All alone ! 



[74] 



DREAR O' THE NIGHT 

DREAR the close of autumn day, 
Chill and dreary, 
When the daylight dies away. 
Eld and weary, 
And the mellow brightness darkens 
Into gray. 

When the dead leaves dance around. 

Brown and seary. 
All the moon shapes on the ground, 

White and eerie. 
Then the winds among the mountains 

Wake to sound. 



75 



Listen ! Hear them drearly surge, 

Draw thee nearer ! 
Queerly chanting some queer dirge, 

So, 'tis dearer. 
At the grave of Autumn chanting, 

Some queer dirge. 



[76] 



w 



TO WHAT END? 

E know not why our life, 
Our smilings and our tears, 
Why Nature's power works grimly on, 
Through the eternal years. 



Yet dour or glad we strive, 

Loath from the task to cease, 

Content, if thus we learn to tell 

The Blue Bird from the Geese ! 



[77] 



SEA! O SEA! 

SEA! OSea! 
Heaving, restlessly, 
Never at rest ! 
Hurling thy strength on the shingles 
And sands of the Shore ! 
Whipping the clouds with spume ! 
Stinging with spray 
The Face of Space ! 
Sea ! O Sea ! 

Life ! O Life ! 

Gull on the breast of the Sea ! 
Seeking, tirelessly! 
Building thy nest on rocks sublime 

[78] 



Of the Coasts of Time 1 
Braving storm for thy young ! 
Searching the sky 
By light and night ! 
Life! OLife! 

Peace! O Peace! 

Sweet in Life's Heart 

Brooding, endlessly ! 
Calling thy strength from shoreless deeps 
Of Eternity ! 

Laying Hate's wild hurricane ! 
Staying with calm 
The scath of wrath ! 

Peace ! O Peace ! 

Rest ! O Rest ! 
Never ! So long as the Sea 

[ 79 ] 



Heaves restlessly ! 
Never ! So long as Life 

Yet tirelessly 
Braves storm and night ! 
Never ! So long as Peace 

Of Eternity 
Broods sw^eet in Life's Heart ! 
But v^hen these cease to be, 

Rest! ORest! 
Death shall bring thee ! 



[80] 



'HE following pages contain advertisements of a 
few of the Macmillan books on kindred subjects 



NEW POEMS AND PLAYS 

Borderlands and Thoroughfares 

By Wilfrid Wilson Gibson, Author of ''Daily 
Bread/' ''Fires," " Womenkind," etc. Cloth, 
i2mo. $1.25 net. 

With the publication of Daily Bread Mr. Gibson was hailed as a 
new poet of the people. Fires, his later volume, confirmed the im- 
pression that here was a man whose writing was close to real life, a 
man in whom were combined a sympathy and appreciation of human- 
kind with a rare lyrical genius. This present book continues the 
work which Mr. Gibson can do so well. In it are brought together 
three plays and a number of short lyrics which reveal again his very 
decided talent. It is a collection which should indeed gratify those 
students of modern verse who are looking to such men as Gibson 
and Masefield for permanent and representative contributions to 
literature. 



Van Zorn : A Comedy in Three Acts 

By Edwin A. Robinson. Cloth, i2mo. $1.25 net. 

This play makes delightful reading and introduces in the person 
of its author a playwright of considerable promise. Mr. Robinson 
tells a story that is largely humorous, one which by a clever arrange- 
ment of incident and skilful characterization arouses strongly the 
reader's curiosity and keeps it unsatisfied to the end. The dialogue 
is bright and the construction of the plot shows the work of one well 
versed in the technique of the drama. 



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NEW POEMS AND PLAYS 



The Congo and Other Poems 

By Vachel Lindsay. Cloth, i2mo. 

In the readings which he has given throughout the country Mr. Lindsaj 
has won the approbation of the critics and of his audiences in general 
for the new verse form which he is employing. The wonderful effects 
of sound produced by his hues, their relation to the idea which the 
author seeks to convey and their marvelous lyrical quality are some- 
thing, it is maintained, quite out of the ordinary and suggest new 
possibilities and new meanings in poetry. In this book are presented 
a number of Mr. Lindsay's most daring experiments, that is to say they 
were experiments when they were first tried; they have been more than 
justified by their reception. It is believed that the volume will be one 
of the most discussed of all the year's output. 



Borderlands and Thoroughfares 

By Wilfrid Wilson Gibson, Author of "Daily Bread," 
"Fires," "Womenkind," etc. Cloth, i2mo. $1.25 
net. 

With the publication of Daily Bread Mr. Gibson was hailed as a new poet 
of the people. Fires, his later volume, confirmed the impression that 
here was a man whose writing was close to real life, a man in whom were 
combined a sympathy and appreciation of humankind with a rare lyrical 
genius. This present book continues the work which Mr. Gibson can 
do so well. In it are brought together three plays and a number of 
short lyrics which reveal again his very decided talent. It is a collection 
which should indeed gratify those students of modem verse who are 
looking to such men as Gibson and Masefield for permanent and rep- 
resentative contributions to literature. 



PUBLISHED BY 

THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 

Publishers 64-66 Fifth Avenue New York 



RABINDRANATH TAGORE'S NEW DRAMA 



The King of the Dark Chamber 

By 
RABINDRANATH TAGORE 

Nobel Prizeman in Literature, 19 13; Author of "Gitan- 
gali," "The Gardener," "The Crescent Moon," 
" Sadhana," " Chitra," " The Post-Office," etc. Cloth 
12 mo. 

"The real poetical imagination of it is unchangeable; 

the allegory, subtle and profound and yet simple, is cast 

into the form of a dramatic narrative, which moves with 

unconventional freedom to a finely impressive climax; and 

the reader, who began in idle curiosity, finds his intelligence 

more and more engaged until, when he turns the last page, 

he has the feeling of one who has been moving in worlds 

not realized, and communing with great if mysterious 

presences." 

The London Globe. 



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NEW POEMS AND PLAYS 

Plaster Saints 

By Israel Zangwill. Cloth, i2mo. $1.25 net. 

A new play of deep social significance. 

TKe Melting Pot 

By Israel Zangwill. Revised edition. Cloth, i2mo» 

This is a revised edition of what is perhaps Mr. Zangwill's most popular 
play. Numerous changes have been made in the text, which has been 
considerably lengthened thereby. The appeal of the drama to the 
readers of this country is particularly strong, in that it deals with that 
great social process by which all nationalities are blended together for 
the making of the real American. 

Sword Blades and Poppy Seed 

By Amy Lowell, Author of "A Dome of Many-Coloured 
Glass." Boards, i2mo. $1.25 net. 

Of the poets who to-day are doing the interesting and original work, there 
is no more striking and unique figure than Amy Lowell, The foremost 
American member of the "Imagists" — a group of poets that includes 
William Butler Yeats, Ezra Pound, Ford Madox Hueffer — she has 
won wide recognition for her writing in new and free forms of poetical 
expression. Miss Lowell's present volume of poems, "Sword Blades 
and Poppy Seed," is an unusual book. It contains much perhaps 
that will arouse criticism, but it is a new note in American poetry. Miss 
Lowell has broken away from academic traditions and written, out of 
her own time, real singing poetry, free, full of new effects and sub- 
tleties. 



PUBLISHED BY 

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Publishers 64-66 Fifth Avenue New York 



NEW POEMS AND PLAYS 

Romance 

By Edward Sheldon, Author of "The Nigger," etc. 
Decorated cloth, i2mo. 

Mr. Sheldon can be relied upon to provide drama that is not only good from 
■a technical standpoint, but unusual in subject-matter. The Nigger, 
which proved to be one of the sensations of the New Theatre's short 
career, is now foUovi^ed by Romance, a play more admirable, perhaps, 
in its construction, and of universal appeal. As a book the story seems 
to have lost none of its brilliance; in fact the sharpness of its character 
delineation, the intensity and reality of its plot and the lyrical beauty 
of some of its passages are, if possible more apparent on the printed 
page than in the theatre. There is little doubt but that the tremendous 
success which the drama made when footlighted is to be duplicated 
upon its appearance in this form. 



Poems 

By Harriet Monroe. Cloth, i2mo. $1.25 net. 

In this book is brought together some of Miss Monroe's best work. As the 
editor of Poetry: A Magazine of Verse, wherein occasionally compositions 
of her own have appeared, and as a contributor to the better magazines, 
Miss Monroe has endeared herself to a large audience of discriminating 
people. A distinguishing feature of the collection is that it is notably 
representative of current ideas and sentiments, and pleasingly varied in 
theme. The author's subjects are chosen from the Panama Canal, 
the Titanic disaster, the turbine, the telephone. State Street, Chicago, 
and other modern phases or factors of Ufe, There is also a group of love 
poems. 



PUBLISHED BY 

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A LIST OF PLAYS 

Leonid Andreyev's Anathema $1.25 net 

Clyde Fitch's The CHmbers 75 net 

Girl with the Green Eyes » . . 1.25 net 

Her Own Way 75 net 

Stubbornness of Geraldine 75 net 

The Truth 75 net 

Thomas Hardy's The Dynasts. 3 Parts. Each 1.50 net 

Henry Arthur Jones's 

Whitewashing of Julia 75 net 

Saints and Sinners 75 net 

The Crusaders _ , 75 net 

Michael and His Lost Angel 75 net 

Jack London's Scorn of Women 1.25 net 

Theft 1.25 net 

Mackaye's Jean D 'Arc 1.25 net 

Sappho and Phaon 1.25 net 

Fenris the Wolf 1.25 net 

Mater 1.25 net 

Canterbury Pilgrims 1,25 net 

The Scarecrow 1.25 net 

A Garland to Sylvia 1.25 net 

John Masefield's The Tragedy of Pompey 1.25 net 

William Vaughn Moody's 

The Faith Healer 1.25 net 

Stephen Phillip's Ulysses 1.25 net 

The Sin of David 1.25 net 

Nero 1.25 net 

Pietro of Siena i.oonet 

Phillips and Carr. Faust 1.25 net 

Edward Sheldon's The Nigger 1.25 net 

Romance 1.25 net 

Katrina Trask's In the Vanguard 1.25 net 

Rabindranath Tagore's The Post OflSce i.oonet 

Chitra i.oo net 

The King of the Dark Chamber 1.25 net 

Robinson, Edwin A. VanZorn 1.25 net 

Sarah King Wiley's Coming of Philibert 1.25 net 

Alcestis 75 net 

Yeats's Poems and Plays, Vol. n, Revised Edition 2.00 net 

Hour Glass (and others) 1.25 net 

The Green Helmet and Other Poems 1.25 net 

Yeats and Lady Gregory's Unicorn from the Stars 1.50 net 

Israel Zangwill's The Melting Pot. New Edition ... .1.25 net 

The War God 1.25 net 

The Next Religion 1.25 net 

Plaster Saints 1.25 net 



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Publishers 64-66 Fifth Avenue New York 



